Sans had nearly shit himself when he saw (Y/N), hair sparkling from the rain water and a nervous smile on her face. It was adorable.
Not that he would tell her, of course. No, he'd act affectionate like usual, play with her a little, maybe give her a scare if she went out of line. This, this horrible feeling in the pit of his gut, it would never be explained to her. He was having a hard enough time explaining it to himself. That tightness in his stomach, the fluttering in his chest, the way he strove to make her laugh and relished in her smiles (however red faced or sarcastic they were), he could only draw one conclusion. But god damnit, he was a scientist, same as his father. He was intelligent, if he really wanted to, Sans was sure he could break down the chemical process enough to find a different outcome. Couldn't he?
Maybe. It was in that first moment, when he had first seen her. The cops had rounded in on him, his back against a wall, and she was there. Eyes bright with determination, stance firm, she was there. A gun in her hand, but even without it she would still be threatening. He was within her reach, could easily have his knife to her fragile neck and cut, let the crimson blood just flow flow flow flow flOW UNTIL SHE'S DEAD AND GONE, THAT FILTHY SINNER- he was letting his madness get the best of him. So much so, in fact, he hadn't even noticed the girl of his thoughts snapping her fingers an inch from his nose.
He flinched in surprise, leaning back against the rail. She was scowling very slightly, red still tinging her cheeks. "Sans, have you even been listening?"
He scrambled to come up with a response; thankfully, he was already ready. "Sorry, I was distracted by your beauty."
There was the blush he loved. She stammered for a few seconds, before hitting his arm and leaning against the wall next to him. "Shut up, you douche," she mumbled.
He giggled and threw an arm around her shoulders. She squirmed, snapping something about just getting dry; he was still pretty wet. Which led to only one course of action: "You want me to get you wet, give me about five seconds."
Her eyes went wide, her face just as red as when he'd caught her earlier. She stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words. He laughed even harder, doubling over and clutching his sides. The door binged open, and (Y/N) stormed out. Sans giggled, wiping his eyes, and followed her.
(Time skip via psychotic memory loss of unimportant events)
He pulled up in front of an Olive Garden. The ride had been mostly silent, with her staring out the window, probably to force the red away from her cheeks. He considered trying to get her to talk, but decided against it; there'd be plenty of time to talk later.
Which was now.
They both sat for a few seconds, (Y/N) flinching slightly as she snapped back, Sans' nerves tickling at his stomach. He tried to think of a joke, bad pickup line, something. Nothing came to him.
(Y/N) was the first to move, unbuckling herself and carefully opening the door. Sans did the same, practically ripping the seatbelt off and throwing the door open. The cop looked at him oddly over the roof of the car. He grinned at her, slamming the door shut.
She eased the door shut and followed after him, chewing on her lower lip. Sans couldn't help but grin to himself; she looked adorable.
The rain had petered out, becoming a slight drizzle, so he didn't bother with his hood. He strode to the door and pulled it open, waiting for (Y/N). She paused a few steps away from him, eyebrow raised. His grin widened as he gestured for her to go through. His chest was doing that damn fluttery thing, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. She catiously walked through, stiffening considerably once she was past him. Probably thinks I'll backstab her. Quite literally, I guess. He allowed the door to swing shut and followed her, still grinning.
